Monkey Robot Family

Hank asked to be a Monkey Robot for Halloween, so our work here is done.

Here is my child dressed as Everything That is Awesome. I based his robot panel on Arlo’s robot costume from a few years back, which is the work of my supermom designer friend Jen Robbins.

Bryan and I were thinking of going as mad scientists, until we hit upon the scheme of going as a robot and a monkey. This is my subdued girl-robot costume, with Blade Runner hair and mini-loaf tin shoulder pads.

The best part of the costume were the leg circuits. We drew them on with Crayola markers, then I put nylons over them.

I figured I’d just wear pants until they washed off, and then belatedly remembered we have fancy plans tonight. Le sigh. “Hello, I’m the girl with the sub-par tattoos.”

Bryan is a real natural in the role of monkey. It’s too bad we didn’t bring along any plastic poop for flinging, because I think that would have really made the costume. Next year.

More costume and Halloween photos on Flickr.

Flashback Monday: Women’s Fashion, Part IV, Accessories

 

In an effort to gather all my writing in one place, I’ve been posting articles that originally appeared elsewhere. This piece was originally published by the The Morning News in 2003. Thanks to Rosecrans Baldwin, for the edits.

Fashion Standbys from Decades Past _ Mighty Girl

A girlfriend of mine just went through a particularly hard year — divorce, career upheaval, the possibility of leaving her beloved bungalow. We were talking about New Year’s resolutions, and she said she was going easy on herself. Her only resolution was to accessorize better. Screw the gym — this is a goal I can get behind.

Designers draw from the past, and so should you. The oft-repeated rule is that styles are recycled every twenty years or so. Wearing something that was once all the rage but has since fallen out of style will make you seem fashionable without risking disasters.

This is my list of standbys from decades past. I skipped the ‘90s because I still don’t have enough emotional distance to recommend that you bust out your shrugs. Forgive me.

1910s
Full-Size Umbrellas

Why do we wear shoes that make our feet bleed, but refuse to carry an umbrella that won’t tuck into our purse? Half the convenience, ten times the appeal, the full-size umbrella with a wooden hook handle is too charming to abandon. How forlorn to browse in a bookstore, sip a latte, or buy a paper on a rainy afternoon without one.

1920s
Fans

Aren’t fans sweet? They’re light, compact, and they drop right into your purse. If you live somewhere hot, or you like to go out dancing, it’s such a comfort to have a portable cooling system with you, and so much more attractive than fanning your sweaty neck with a magazine. If you live in a big city, head to the nearest Chinatown and pick one up for a buck or two. I’m a sucker for cherry blossoms.

1930s
Gloves

Without a decent pair of gloves, what do you suppose you’ll use to slap your offenders? Maybe white cotton gloves are a little too precious (and OCD indicative) for afternoon shopping trips nowadays, but dress gloves are so suave with an evening gown. I’m also in favor of colorful, soft, leather gloves for the winter. Try deep green with your black coat or a soft blue to offset chocolate. Leather gloves give such a satisfying thwack when defending one’s honor.

1940s
Back-Seam Stockings

You can wear them slutty, classy, or somewhere in between. Where else can you get that kind of versatility for ten bucks? Back-seam stockings lend ba-boom to the most mundane dress or shapeless skirt. Black is a classic choice. Please straighten your seam, or you’ll look as though you’ve just had a tryst in the broom closet.

1950s
Vices

Cigarette smoking is a nasty habit. Don’t cigarette cases make it ever so much more attractive? Press the precise, silver button, and pop! A tidy row of cigarette soldiers waits to defend you against the evening chill. Offer one to a friend; give him a light with your shiny flip-top lighter. (Plink! Tiny flame. Plink! Pocket-ready.) And for god’s sake, get yourself a drink. Why do you think they call it a cocktail dress?

Brooches
Brooches are nostalgic, and rarely the first choice when you’re digging through your jewelry box. They’re just grandma enough to qualify as quirky, and a very simple outfit is elevated with the right pin.

1960s
False Eyelashes

A kittenish sidelong glance is nothing without them. Buy a pack of individual lashes and some lash glue at the drugstore. Put a couple of lashes on the outside corner of each eye, and maybe one in the middle to even things out. Paint on some black liquid liner and give yourself a slow wink in the mirror. If you don’t want to have sex with your own reflection, you’re doing it wrong.

1970s
Pom-Pom Hats

The more interest you take in your wardrobe, the more you’ll realize that caring too much about what people think can be the kiss of death. When everyone is wearing their sleek little black watchmen’s caps, nothing says ‘piss off’ like a ‘70s-style pom-pom ski cap in Lifesaver colors. Orange and green stripes, or navy blue and white topped with a cherry-red pom—this is clothing that bobs when you walk! Right on.

Crocheted Beer Can Hats
Perhaps you’ve seen one of these at a thrift store. You cut beer cans into squares or ovals and then crochet them into a hat. Eh? Eh? I’m kidding. Take it off.

1980s
Bows

You had to give up your side ponytail, but don’t let go of the bow. Try it at your waistline, on your shoes, or tie a long scarf into a headband with a bow at the top.

The Details
Every time you leave the house, consider wearing, or carrying, one unique thing that makes you a happy kid. If you have an unusual accessory, you can throw on a black turtleneck and a ho-hum pair of jeans and still seem hip. The unexpected diverts attention from the mundane, and stocking up on wacky vintage brooches is a lot cheaper than buying an electric-green Cashmere coat. Also, electric green isn’t your color.

Friday Mixtape

I’ve always wished I knew more about music, and this is part of my Life List project to listen to 1,000 new songs. Right now I’m up to 678, and on Fridays I share some of my new favorites. If you’d like to share some music with me, please send your picks to maggie at mighty girl dot com, and I will listen to them.


When the Night Comes from Dan Auerbach


Help, I’m Alive from Metric
(via 826 Valencia’s benefit CD Give, Listen, Help)


Lauren Marie from Girls


Fix Up, Look Sharp from Dizzee Rascal


Oh My God from Ida Maria

Still looking for more music? Here you go: Mixtape 1, Mixtape 2, Mixtape 3, Mixtape 4, Mixtape 5, Mixtape 6, Mixtape 7, Mixtape 8, Mixtape 9, Mixtape 10, Mixtape 11, Mixtape 12, Mixtape 13, Mixtape 14, Mixtape 15 , Mixtape 16 , Mixtape 17 , Mixtape 18, Mixtape 19 , Mixtape 20

Go berry picking? Check.

Blackberries were a big part of my childhood, some of you may remember that Berry was my maiden name. We had blackberries in the backyard, and when we went camping, I would spend hours on my own picking berries so we could have blackberries and heavy cream for breakfast. My hands were purple all summer.

My gathering instinct is still strong — the idea of free food is exciting. You do the work, and then you have your bowl of berries right in front of you. So direct, and different from the kind of work I usually do.

It’s been years since I’ve gone picking, and this summer we nearly went the whole season without staining our fingers. The Life List reminded me that it was time to get out and do it. The berries are right there, we just had to choose an afternoon for picking.

It’s been a busy couple of months, so I have some catching up to do on my five things in three months goal — November 15 is approaching like a freight train. How are your goals coming along, lovies?

Cooper-Hewitt Pop Up Collection

I got to see some pop-up books from the Cooper-Hewitt library while I was in New York. If you’d like to see some in motion, the museum has very smartly uploaded several You Tube videos. I didn’t realize that pop-up books are still hand glued in China.

This one was hand cut and sewn in 1551 to illustrate mathematical concepts.

This is a modern advertisement.

Daily Express Children’s Annual, 1933

A modern anatomical pop up.

Alice in Wonderland pop-up, with the modern version in front and its inspiration behind.

I particularly love the concept behind Paper Blossoms: A Book of Beautiful Bouquets for the Table, which is still available from Chronicle Books.

It’s a pop-up book full of centerpieces. Genius.

More pop-up photos on Flickr.

DIY Nemo Fish Costume for Your Toddler


Since Halloween is looming, I thought I’d post a quick tutorial for Hank’s costume from last year. Here’s what you’ll need:

A sweatshirt (3T) and matching sweatpants
About 30 felt squares (15 of each color) for your scales and tail
1 white felt square
1 black felt square
Stiff, starched fabric for the crown
Clean 28 oz tin can
Scissors
Glue Gun
2 hours in front of the TV
Glass of wine

Sweatshirt costumes are great for toddlers because they feel familiar, so they’re easier to get on and off. This costume is great because you can use any color combos you want, which means that the stained sweatshirt you planned to throw away will work fine. We chose orange and yellow because Hank was into Finding Nemo at the time.

The tail is two pieces of felt hot glued in place. To make the bottom piece, I folded a felt square in half on the diagonal, cut away along the fold to make the tail shape, then glued the two sides together for extra stiffness. The top part of the tail is just a piece of scrap left over from cutting the scales.

I smooshed a large tin can until it was approximately scale shaped, and used it to trace the scales onto the felt. I folded felt squares in half so I could trace once and cut out two scales at a time.

The eye is felt too. I used drinking glasses as templates for the circles. The crown was a little trickier.

Mine is made from a reusable shopping bag, which was just the right stiffness. I cut a bunch of uniform rectangular strips, then bent them in L-shapes and glued the bottom parts of the Ls in a line along the top seam of the hood. I alternated which way the bottoms of the Ls were facing, and overlapped the strips slightly, so each strip kind of supported the one next to it.

I trimmed the top into a rough half circle, and trimmed away excess fabric from the bits I’d glued down. Then I took a leftover felt scale, cut it in half, and glued one piece on either side of the crown for added structure, and to hide the messiness.

You can see from this photo how I glued the scales — this sweatshirt is a 3T. I started at the bottom and worked my way up with the sweatshirt zipped closed. Take care not to glue over the zipper.

Same deal with the back, and voila!

You have yourself a little fishy. Happy Halloween!

You Lost Me There

Mr. Baldwin is in San Francisco doing a reading tonight at the Ferry Building (6 p.m.). I hear his approximation of a Maine accent is without parallel.

The best parts of You Lost Me There:

“I tried playing housewife for a year to an empty house.”

“Russell squeezed my arm and gave me a light hug. While he strode toward the airport, compact and hustling, his suit bag like a shadow on his back, I thought, I don’t care if I ever see him again.”

“Sara always said it was a hindrance of mine, that I expected people to tell me what they needed.”

“After the coffee he was still focused on how she liked it, how she took it, he put it, going into details to show off his good fortune for discovering a woman who didn’t mind facing away from him during sex.”

“She longed for honor. For Eagle Scouts.”

“I won’t have a normal relationship. That’s not who I am.”
“Of course not.”
“I won’t be dragged down to what other people do.”

“You’ll have worked tremendously hard to build your life after a certain fashion, and then suddenly, one morning, you want something different. You want anything but what you have, you want it new, and you want it just right then. It’s terrifying, the desire’s so powerful, you’re just sick with it.”

National Design Awards, 2010

This is my magic friend Margaret, you’ve met her before.

A couple weeks ago, she called and said, “I have an extra ticket to the National Design Awards. You have to go.”

Margaret is spectacular like this. You’re in labor? She happens to be in town from out of state! She made you a baby blanket. Your beloved wallet was stolen? Her sister just gave her a box of wallets she didn’t need anymore. There’s an identical one in there. You like chocolate? Willa Wonka is a childhood friend.

Margaret says yes to every opportunity, and whenever possible she takes her friends along. In the last few years, she’s taught me to ignore inconvenience in the face of potential, which is how I found myself on a plane to New York.

We met at Sunny Bates’s place to have our hair and makeup done. I’d never met Sunny before, but she’s the one who ululated for a friend onstage during the ceremony. Sunny is not a cautious sort, which makes her easy to love. I consider her an excellent addition to my collection of women who whoop in cocktail dresses. Soon, I will have an army.

I’d never had my makeup done before, not even for my own wedding, because I’ve seen too many friends leave makeup counters looking like angry clown brides. Plus, I am a control freak. Well, I was wrong, it was officially fairy princess land.

Speaking of which, if you’re in New York, call Sacha Selhi and ask her to do your makeup. She sent me a list of all the products she used so I could go get them myself, plus gave me application tips while she was working. She made me look amazing. I’d have made out with her, but it would have wrecked my makeup.

This is what I was wearing when Jenna Lyons, J.Crew’s president, complimented my feathers. I’m going to pretend to act cool about this. Join me, won’t you? Margaret told her the feathers were a hair clip I bought at a stripper store on the Haight, so Jenna laughed and took a little video. I refrained from demanding that we sit down with a bottle of champagne and talk about clothes all night, which required restraint because there was already some champagne in my system. Plus, I still feel guilty for knocking off the Astrid sweater. Sorry about that, J.Crew. Thanks for making all that cute stuff lately.

And speaking of champagne courage, the Mulleavy sisters were there to accept an award for Rodarte. I’ve admired their work for years. Just look at this action:

So as they were leaving, I took a deep breath and introduced myself to Kate. I told her I was a fellow California girl who’d often contemplated driving down to Pasadena with a plate of brownies to say thanks for all the pretty stuff. Except for the creepiness involved, of course. Kate graciously said she would not find that creepy. And so, baked goods for the Mulleavy sisters goes on my life list. Hooray for dresses that make you want to celebrate.

So thanks for taking me along, Margaret. As always when you’re involved, it was a fantastic time.

More photos on Flickr.